The Path of the Warrior
by Noritsu
Summary: Bittersweet Kimiko/Rai fic. Told in 1st person from Kimiko's POV. A violent fight has shaken the gang to it's core. They must now face the reality of their situation as the chosen ones. Very minor cursing.
1. Chapter 1

**Xiaolin Showdown**

Authoress: Noritsu

Disclaimer

I **do not** own the Xiaolin Showdown characters, or the Xiaolin Showdown universe.

They are copyrighted and belong to Christie Hui and Warner Brothers.

The storyline, however, is mine. So no pilfering, please. Thanks.

**TUN*** Publishing Company

July, 2011

***T**he**U**sual**N**onsense

**The Path of the Warrior**

**Chapter One**

The temple is still and silent as I make my way down the halls. The slippers I wear make a faint tapping sound as I walk, and I can feel the cool of the stone floor through the thin, well-worn soles.

It is early yet. No one else is awake. But I cannot sleep.

How can so much have changed over the course of a single week's time? So many things have been thrown out of balance. I wonder if we will ever be set to rights again.

Master Fung says that Raimundo just needs time. But I am not so sure.

I make my way to the kitchen where I empty the contents of a packet of hot cocoa into a mug. I am loathe to set the tea kettle to boiling and disturb the façade of tranquility that lays over the temple at the moment so I take a glass measuring cup, fill it with water, and put it in the microwave. The temperature will either come out too hot, or just warm enough, but that is a small incovenience to put up with considering all that has transpired recently, and all that remains to be dealt with.

I make my way into the living room. Gently, I place my mug onto a coaster on the end table. I stop for a moment and listen. No one seems to be stirring yet. My thoughts drift away for a moment….

Shaking myself awake again, I kneel down in front of the fireplace. It takes only a mere second to realize that there is warmth here still, where there should be none. I grab the poker and stir at the logs. The fading embers, for a moment, flare to light again casting a faint amber glow over the burned logs. Stirred heat rises from it's bed and curls up into the chimney. I stare at the wispy trails of smoke.

Honestly, I don't know why it should surprise me.

He gets up at intervals during the course of the night, prowling restlessly through the halls and rooms, and then when he has tired again of the exercise he crawls back into bed.

He thinks that no one is aware of this.

But I am.

I flick my fingers outward toward the logs. It is the gesture I use to channel my power; to fling it away from me and onto the object I'm zeroing in on. The flames spring to life again. There is a crackling and popping sound as the fire once again consumes the wood. For a moment, I think that I would like to set fire to the fireplace itself. Actually, what I would like to do is set the building on fire. Set all the buildings on fire. Burn the whole damn temple complex to the ground. Then I could go back home, shamed, and live the rest of my life in obscurity as a pariah that no one wants to come near.

I know that Omi feels the same way. But he cannot escape his fate. And neither can I or Clay. Poor Clay, who was on the receiving end of that horrible fight.

And Raimundo…..

Abandoning the couch, I pick up my mug again and take a seat by the window near the door. The faintest of light is now stretching upwards from the horizon. The grounds are thick with fog.

He is out there. I know it.

I try to will myself to relax. I try to cancel out all the external distractions and hear only the silence within me. I focus on my breathing. I feel myself begin to fall away. I see a sliver of movement. I concentrate, and then I see him.

He is barely visible, standing just at the edge of the grass where it meets the pathway that leads to the temple courtyard. He is silent and unmoving. If it weren't for his chestnut hair he would be nothing more than an opaque shadow lost in a curtain of white. He stares out into the direction of the courtyard as if, somehow, he will rediscover there that precious thing that he lost in the violence of the fight a week ago.

But he will never find it again. And no one else will be able to find it for him, either. It is lost, gone forever. And he must reconcile himself to that reality.

For Raimundo has already met the fate that each of us, in our turn, will need to come to grips with at some point in the future. He has looked it in the eye and seen the terrible truth. A truth we have all been dodging during the four years we have been here. A truth we all had hoped that somehow, some way, would never actually come to pass.

I remember the grim expression on Master Guan's face, the day after, when he came to see us. Master Fung asked him to come and spend some time. Perhaps it would help the healing process. Perhaps it would help us to deal with it.

Master Guan shattered that notion with a single, quietly spoken statement.

"I am sorry, young ones. But as Master Fung alluded, the Heylin are apparently no longer satisfied with merely making off with the trinkets of a showdown well fought. I am afraid that the time has come for blood to be spilled."

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><p>It's been a loooong time since I wrote a multi-chapter Xiaolin fic. This is a short one, though. Only four chapters and they are not very long each. This story was influenced by two very well crafted Chinese martial arts films called "Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon" and "Hero" starring Jet Li.<p>

Nori  
><em><br>This is no pie!_ - Raimundo


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

I am grateful of the daytime for the bright light of the daytime hours chases away the troubled thoughts that only seem to haunt us after the sun has gone down. Thoughts that lie like shadows around every corner we pass, waiting to ambush us, and whisper to us with glee of the destiny we have been chained to since the day we were born.

During the daytime hours, Raimundo is better able to pretend that there isn't actually anything all that terribly wrong with him. He seems more sure of himself, more in control. The daytime shadows that wash over the paths between the buildings and those that spread out under the trees don't seem quite so foreboding. They are of a lighter gray color which makes them easier to deal with.

He walks around and in, and through the circle we have formed as we practice with our staffs. He offers words of encouragement for our progress and minor corrections to our stance and grasp. You would almost think that nothing had happened.

A month ago I would have told you that I cannot believe a whole year has passed since he was named Shoku. He was still our usual Raimundo. Not prone to playing pranks anymore, but still needling us, and good naturedly pointing out our shortcomings whenever the opportunity arose.

Now, I would be inclined to tell you that it feels like an eternity.

Omi swings his Staff of Guan. Master Guan has made an offering of a Staff of Guan to both Clay and I as well, but only when we feel ready. Clay told him that he would be most appreciative of it when it came to him. I couldn't think of anything to say so I just nodded and remained silent. I think Clay is still angry with Omi and I although he won't admit it and I am too afraid to ask.

Omi has stopped asking Clay if he is feeling better.

As for Rai, he has abandoned his staff lately. When we got back to the temple after the fight was over, he left Omi and I to explain to Master Fung what happened while he spent the entire rest of the evening scrubbing at it to try and get the blood out. Unfortunately, Tubbimura's blood was more stubborn than Rai's determination. There is still a faint red sheen on the wood, just behind the spear tip.

When I asked him what happened to it, he bluntly said that he'd shoved it into the back of his closet "for now." I didn't press him further.

Raimundo calls a break and releases us from training. Clay goes back to whittling a little animal figure. Omi wanders off toward the meditation garden. Rai drops onto the ground from where he is standing and crosses his legs. He is going to enter into a meditative trance even for this brief duration of our break.

I walk over to him. I need to interrupt him so I can try to finish the non-conversation we had this morning. I _need_ to finish it.

"Rai?" I say, kneeling down next to him.

His eyes open back up. He tilts his head slightly and a lock of chestnut hair falls across his brow. I somehow manage to resist the urge to brush it back into place.

Softly, he answers me. "Yeah, Kimiko?"

"About this morning…."

He smiles ever so lightly. I would like to collapse, in a faint, onto his lap. "I know, Kimi. I didn't wake you up, and you weren't spying on me either. I'm sorry I wasn't in a more talkative mood."

I return the smile. "I just didn't want you to be mad at me."

His smile drops slightly as he answers. "I'm not mad at you Kimiko." His gaze drifts toward the direction that Omi has gone. "I'm not mad at Omi either. I just….."

His voice trails off as he looks back at me, notices the expression on my face. "Oh…." he says softly.

He has completely misunderstood me. He thinks that I think that he's _still_ mad at us for our inability to come to Clay's rescue during the fight. I'm not sure what I should say next. Fortunately, he decides to save me the trouble.

"Actually, I never was mad at you and Omi to begin with. I….. I'm mad at Tubbimura. And myself I suppose."

My heart is breaking. This is the most information he's given up to any of us about how he feels since the day of the fight. I lean down, take his hand in mine.

"Rai, please," I whisper, "don't give up on yourself. Time heals all wounds. That's how the saying goes, right? I can help you."

He looks at me, looks directly in my eyes. His expression seems to be a mixture of sadness and knowing. Knowing that my statement falls so hopelessly short of it's well meaning intentions.

I want to cry.

"You can't help me Kimiko," he says. "No one can."

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><p>You can leave a review free of charge! Just click the little button thingey! *points*<p>

TTFN, Nori


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Jack's house is quiet as we stand before the entrance to his basement lair.

After four years, broaching the perimeter without setting off any of the alarms is a piece of cake. Honestly, you'd think Jack would try to get a little more creative and think of new ways to trip us up.

Rai takes a deep breath, exhales and nods to Omi and I. We move forward and begin the process of breaking the door from its hinges. First I heat it with fire, then Omi cools it with ice. We repeat the process over, and over, until finally the hinges show stress. They start to buckle and crack and Rai and Clay move in to replace us, wrenching the door sideways and making a crack for us all to slip through.

Late yesterday afternoon, Rai wandered off with Master Fung. He looked worried, and a bit anxious, and the rest of us argued between ourselves as to whether or not we should crash their conference and demand to be told what was going on. Patience won out finally, and when Rai and Master Fung gathered us together they told us that it was time for us to go on a little information gathering raid. It seems Rai believes that there is something bigger going on than the Heylin just deciding that they want to start randomly picking us off. Jack's lair would be the logical place to start with, and the easiest to infiltrate.

What Rai thinks he is going to find is beyond the imagination of any of us at the moment. But we will follow him, and trash the place if we must, even if our efforts only turn up one tiny clue as to this "bigger picture" that Rai is talking about.

Rai motions us over to stand against the wall while he uses his wind sense to make a sweep of the interior for traps. There are none, and he motions with his hand in the direction of the light switch which obediently flips on.

Cautiously, we move unheeded through the room. Rai speaks quietly, but urgently, pointing out Jack's plotting table, and the large video screen as the two things he wants searched first. As Omi and Clay work their way diligently around the plotting table, studying the placement of every little battle figure, and every line that Jack has drawn on it, Rai and I tackle the viewscreen.

We run the stack of discs lying scattered about the desk looking and listening for anything that might stand out as being suspicious. But the only thing they seem to contain are the usual pleas he makes to Hannibal and Chase to be included in their schemes. Omi and Clay are similarly empty-handed as Jack's battle strategies don't seem to be anything more than a fantasy attack scenario that wouldn't stand up to what we are capable of dishing out to him.

Having exhausted these two fronts, it's time to start searching in every nook and cranny that the lair has to offer us. We begin rooting through cabinets, and cupboards, and file drawers – who knew that Jack kept file drawers? – pulling out every sheet of paper that has a blueprint plan drawn on it, and some others with what looks like frantically scribbled writing, and fling them on the plotting table.

We have amassed quite a pile, and we stare grimly at it for a long moment, wondering first if we will find anything that makes any sense, and if we do, can we put it together so it will tell us a story?

We each take a corner and dive in. We have now been here for over an hour, and although the sun isn't nearly ready for its morning debut yet, there is a sort of nervous energy coursing through us. Is Jack prone to early morning planning sessions? What will we do if he comes stumbling in on us now? The questions are unspoken, but we are aware of them hanging in the air over our heads as we sort through the mess on the table.

We look at this paper and that, study this blueprint and then another one. We fling papers onto the floor. The pile may soon threaten to become as large as it was when it was lying on the plotting table.

Suddenly, Clay stops. He seems fixated on the blueprint he is holding. His mouth drops slightly in a half gasp. He looks up to see that Rai is already moving toward him. Clay does not speak. His brow is furrowed in worry.

Rai takes the drawing from his hands. The change in his expression is swift and complete. It is easy to see that whatever Clay has found has confirmed Rai's fears.

He turns to Omi. "Get the sack."

Omi obediently runs over to where he dropped the Wu sack at the foot of the table and brings it back. Rai begins stuffing papers into it without bothering to look at any more of them.

"Pick them up," he says, motioning to the floor littered with the discards of our search. "Pick them all up. It's possible we've overlooked something that we didn't realize was important."

He and Omi continue furiously stuffing the sack with the papers that are still strewn on the table, while Clay and I pick up the rest from the floor and stuff them in also. It is a hopelessly wadded and smashed assortment of papers representing the strange workings of Jack's mind. I am not looking forward to sifting through the mess and trying to untangle the threads.

Rai retrieves Dojo from the cupboard where he is napping and we move swiftly and silently to the door.

"We're hauling everything out of here," Rai says, and is quick to address the shock he sees on all our faces. "We're taking this away from him." He makes a sweeping gesture with his hand that takes in the entire contents of the lair. "We're taking it all away. He'll have to start over from scratch. I want everything out of here. Everything. Including the tools on the wall. It will piss him off something fierce, but it will stall him and give us time while he goes about having to refurnish."

Omi and I look at each other and then at Clay. But Clay is looking at Rai. What on earth has them so rattled that we must engage in such drastic actions?

I feel Rai's hand on my wrist. "Do you remember the prison?" he asks, looking between myself and Omi. Rai has Omi's wrist clasped in his other hand. I have _never_ seen him this desperate to make a point.

"Do you remember the laser tripods?" he asks. Omi and I are confused. What on earth is Rai talking about?

He takes in a deep breath and lets it out. "I'm sorry," he says, shaking his head. "Let me start over. Jack is trying to recreate the alternate future that Omi made. He got a real taste of power in that future. He wants it back." He looks pointedly at each of the three of us in turn as he speaks. "We're not gonna let that happen. Jack thinks he's a tough guy now and he's trying to develop a taste for blood."

He draws himself up to his full height. He's grown a few inches over this past year. If he gains anymore, he will easily tower over Clay. His gaze drifts out past the broken door into the back lawn of Jack's house. I wonder what he sees out there, but I can't tear my own gaze away from his face.

"I will personally see to it that they never thirst for blood again," he says.

His tone of voice makes me shiver. I suddenly feel cold.

His voice drops to a husky whisper. "Do you remember Wuya, Chase and Hannibal in shackles? And Master Fung thrown into the arena to fight lions?"

"No!" I manage to croak out, shaking my head. It is not an answer, but a protestation. I look at Omi. His eyes are like saucers. I struggle to release myself from Rai's grip. I cannot. He tightens his hold on me, forcing me to stay present with him and face the reality of what he is saying.

"He's building them," Rai says, his tone quiet, but thick with emotion. "He's building the weapons he used to take us down when Omi altered the future. Once he's finished with them, he'll start building the prison." He stops and looks pointedly at each of us in turn. "Do you understand?" he asks. "We're on the clock," he says, finally releasing his grip, and tapping an imaginary watch on his wrist. He shakes his head, his gaze drifting away again to somewhere beyond the broken door of Jack's lair. "The countdown has begun. It's already started and we didn't even realize it. It's only a matter of time."

I am frozen in place. Rai's words spin in my mind warping and stretching, shifting and coalescing, until they form the truth that I do not want to see, do not want to hear.

War is coming. It is _really_, finally coming.

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><p>Thank you so much to everyone who is taking the time to read my story and leave a review. It is very much appreciated! Alas, there is only one more chappie to go.<p>

Nori


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

We train, it seems, almost every hour of every day from sunup to sundown. We eat breakfast, we train. We stop for lunch, then more training. We eat dinner, still more training. We train into the evening hours and work on our abilities to sense movement and noise utilizing our elemental senses instead of relying only on sight and sound. We must do this, Raimundo says. We must do this not only to become better fighters against the Heylin, but to also save our own lives should we need to flee from their evil. We will soon begin specialized training with Master Guan to learn how to utilize our skills, in even the darkest pitch of night.

We still hunt for Wu when they reveal themselves. Master Fung and Raimundo have banned the alloted time we used to take to change into our street clothes from our training robes. We have amassed quite a new collection of Wu because we now arrive at the activation spot early enough to get the drop on our Heylin opponents, be they Wuya, Chase, Hannibal, or… Jack and his own particular group of companions.

Whenever Jack arrives on the scene I see a slight flinch in Clay's body language. Clay has pretty much recovered, in body and mind, from the fight a few months back. He has shed the bulk of the initial fear and anger that had gripped him and is growing bolder and more sure of himself with each day of training. Soon, even that slight flinch will be gone.

Omi and I finally worked up the nerve to jointly approach Clay and talk to him. It was a relief to shed that terrible weight from our shoulders. We are all in this together now; Omi and I, and Clay. We are back on the same page. The damage Omi and I thought we had done was not irreparable. I am glad of this. For now I can fully concentrate my worry on the one member of our team that is still suffering the fallout of that fateful day, and will continue to do so until the Heylin are finally defeated and wiped from the face of the planet.

Raimundo comes out onto the porch, with a tray full of snacks and drinks. Training for the day has ended and now is the time to relax for a few, precious moments before we head off to bed. Evening is the only time of day anymore when Raimundo truly lets his guard down and allows the last fading vestiges of who he once was come through.

He jokes and makes quips and picks on Dojo. When Master Fung comes out to join us, he and Rai quiz us on the lesson we studied today in the library. Battle tactics and strategy are also a part of our daily training. I lean back in my chair and breath an inward sigh of relief. Rai is in a truly good mood and I relish it to the fullest extent that I can. It makes me nostalgic for the days of when Rai was always in a good mood. Ready to kick Heylin butt, or anyone's butt for that matter; always handy with a prank or a sarcastic comment. Was it really only such a short time ago? That part of his personality is receding, replaced by the ever growing burden of leadership. The knowledge that Jack and his group are somewhere rebuilding the weapons of war and destruction that we smashed in the raid we went on weighs heavily on his mind.

"This is the first of many," he told us. "This is the beginning of a vicious cycle we embark on. We hunt them out, we smash their machines. They move their base, they begin again. At some point, they will retreat fully. They will hide themselves and come out no more to challenge us to showdowns. When that day comes, we will fail in ferreting them out, no matter how much we try to or wish to. After that, the war comes."

He walks his own path now, as he must. He is with us, but separate from us. He has proven himself the leader, and we are the ones who follow him. Out in the field we call him Shoku now. At the temple Clay and I still call him Rai. Omi, though, has taken to calling him Shoku all the time. It is his title Omi says, and he chides Clay and I for our continued use of Rai's familiar name. But I cannot let Rai's name go, no matter how much Omi spouts about proper decorum and showing deference when one is addressing their superior.

I have not reached the point yet where I view Rai as my "superior". I _cannot_.

I remember a day long ago when the Xiaolin magic contained in the ancient scrolls revealed Raimundo to be our leader. I jumped into his arms and kissed him on the cheek. I was so proud of him; of what he had accomplished. He held me tightly and smiled back. I felt so warm and safe in his embrace.

I swallow the lump that has suddenly formed in my throat. I want so badly to return to that time. A time when we were still cocky enough to feel invincible. A time when Rai was with us, and not so separate. A time when I could allow myself to think that maybe, Raimundo was destined to be mine.

Rai is laughing now, along with Omi and Clay, at a joke Dojo has told. His smile is brilliant, his nose crinkles slightly, his gaze falls on me for a moment, our eyes lock together. I am not sure exactly what the look is on my face right now, perhaps anquish, perhaps wistfulness. The smile fades by degrees and a look of sadness comes into his eyes. He holds my gaze for a moment longer then looks down. He knows without words. He knows what I feel. When he looks up again, the armor he has so carefully built around himself is back firmly in place. He waits a few beats more, then declares it's time to clear the patio table and head inside for a good night's rest.

I could just kick myself.

I linger and head inside last. I say I am going to wash these few dishes and I shoo everyone off without giving them time to mount a protest. Raimundo retreats to the safety of his bedroom without argument. I turn the faucet on.

The hot water spills down into the sink, as do my tears. I am alone now. I can cry dammit, if I want to.

Some day, I will have my old Raimundo back. Some day, this stupid war between the Heylin and Xiaolin will finally be over for good. I make a silent vow that I will fight by Raimundo's side as fiercely as I must to end this conflict. I will not allow him to carry the burden of killing and sowing destruction against the Heylin on his own shoulders alone. I will destroy what I must, and who I must. And then, when it is over, I will pull him into my arms. I will hold him and kiss him fiercely and strongly. I will make him feel safe and warm in my embrace. I will take his pain from him, and heal him, and make him whole once more.

This is my path then. The path for myself that I alone can travel. I will walk this path parallel to Raimundo's. I will not waiver, I will not misstep. I am not so petulant and headstrong as I once was.

I can be patient. I can wait.

~finis~

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><p>Many thanks to everyone who has read the story and has enjoyed it. I really appreciate you taking the time to stop by.<p>

Nori


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